


For Luck and For Love

by NorthwesternInsanity



Category: Dokken, Music RPF
Genre: Bickering, Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22008697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwesternInsanity/pseuds/NorthwesternInsanity
Summary: It's just over a month before Christmas, one day before the release ofUnder Lock and Key,and not only is it obvious to Don Dokken on arrival that the impending tour in the new year will be much harder than the last, but he is carrying a broken heart too.  Maybe there's still a sign that things will improve just a little bit in time for Christmas -or at least Mick Brown can make him hope that much.
Relationships: Mick Brown/Don Dokken
Kudos: 2





	For Luck and For Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Malivrag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malivrag/gifts).

> Written as part of Rockfic Ficmas 2019 for Malivrag, who requested Don Dokken and Mick Brown kissing under mistletoe with a more innocent context.

The studio had been consumed by as festive an atmosphere that could have been created in such a high-tension environment. To some, it might not have been much, but for the members of Dokken, it was more than they'd have expected to come together in the final production stages of an album. And perhaps that was a good thing.

Thanksgiving hadn't come yet, but being a mere week away, the studio had been decorated early to allow time to enjoy it, as aside from pre-tour rehearsals, they didn't expect to see much more of the studio by the end of the week. Perhaps that was a good thing too.

Garland hung through the halls and along the wall behind the mixing board. Some previous user of the studio had left an artificial tree in the supply closet, and Mick had decided to put it out in the corner of the rehearsal room floor. If whoever brought it wanted it back, they were welcome to come in and take it whenever. Otherwise, Dokken were going to enjoy it because they had it.

Jeff had managed to find a stash of red and green bandanas to tie around microphone stands in the mixing room. He and George had also gone out on a woodland trail finding things to bring as decorations the week before. Sprigs of dark holly leaves clashing with red berries, pinecones, and juniper cedar with its distinct blue-grey berries hung over every doorway.

They'd given suggestions there was more than that hung in other places, but George had yet to say what and where. Mick hadn't seen fit to ask, and Don wouldn't bother when just about every word between them seemed to spark another round of verbal scrapping, so everyone had accepted they'd either find it themselves at some point or never know.

On top of the Christmas decorations was standard party supplies the studio managers and engineers had brought in, ready to celebrate another grueling recording and editing process coming to an end.

Over the last week of final edits and effect-placements on non-single tracks, placing the decorations had been a respite. One of the rare moments when everyone was happy, regardless of whether or not they'd been battling out a disagreement moments before. Everyone in the studio could agree that it might have been the toughest album yet, and if someone told them all it was the only thing they all agreed on, nobody would have doubted it. 

Don had thought that no longer having the divide between support for Tom Werman and Michael Wagener would make the sessions for _Under Lock and Key_ easier than _Tooth and Nail_. Instead, working together at all times rather than day and night shifts only proved to him that his constant trouble with George wasn't just exacerbated by life on a cramped bus, or by old producer conflict.

Granted, nothing had really changed with his ability to work with Jeff at the studio -not counting that Jeff tended to gravitate toward working with George more often by choice, and it was easier to work with Mick and enjoy that much. His problems with George had just increased to balance out all the improvements that had been made in their recording schedule.

It was something that would be there no matter what they were doing. The next tour was going to be longer, and judging by the stressful studio session they were coming to the end of, Don suspected it was only going to be worse than the previous one. He'd seen the chances of it improving pass by with nothing to speak of, and he'd lost the little remaining hope he had for working the tension out.

To add insult to injury, his attempts of finding distraction from the less favorable parts of life in the band over the course of his time off the road had ended in heartbreak the previous night. Now, not only did he no longer have the relationship itself to enjoy outside of the hours in the studio, but he wasn't going to have it to look forward to while trying not to blow yet another fuse with George.

He'd thought he'd been stoic on his way in on the last day before the release -with top management from the record company on the way to listen to the final mix and approve it. He thought that any annoyance he did show would be no different than any other day when George had pushed one button too many. He thought and hoped that any visible lack of enthusiasm -beyond the normal amount that usually came in anticipation of a visit from management and impending conflict over the mix -could have been passed off as tiredness.

Apparently not, when George wasn't even the first to bring it up, and when the person who did happened to do so less than a minute from when he walked in the door.

"Aw man, what's going on with you?" asked Mick. "Stood up and left behind by another girl?"

He'd meant it entirely as a joke -one that easily popped into his head with the subject of a good number of songs on their album in its final hours pre-release. The thought that it was what had actually happened hadn't even crossed Mick's mind. But the silence in place of some sassed-out return, and the subtle rolling of eyes as Don blew past them all to sit down by the mixing board and wait for the real torture told Mick immediately that it had been anything but a joking matter for him.

_Oops._ Just as soon, the playful grin was off his face and replaced with concern but that wasn't what Don noticed.

"Oh, please," groaned George. "Here comes the load of fucking sickening ballads-"

"Well, you _can_ give them a harder edge with a good solo in the right place, George," Jeff tried.

"The album's done; we'd better get it released officially and get on the road before it can start. He built up enough for this time around-"

"George, how do you know when and where I come up with my song ideas?" Don snapped. "And why does it matter to _you?"_

_And what did I even say for you to bring that up in the first place?_ he added silently. _You don't even know what happened last night!_

"It matters if it's gonna be another song I'm gonna end up having to play every single night and hear it too!" 

"You don't have to sing a _thing_. Forget the words if they bother you so much. Shut your mouth and play your damn guitar. For pity's sake!"

"And it doesn't matter that I'm not singing it if people are gonna associate it with _me_, because it's _my playing_ that's keeping this album from being a sap fest!"

"Oh, don't give me that, George. The percentage of fans who really only care about your playing aren't even going to bother with the lyrics, so don't even go there. There are four of us here that the fans look at to some point -whether they do equally or not, that's how our writing is split, so when are you going to realize it's not fucking all about _you_?"

"Guys," Jeff warned, glancing between the clock and the window toward the parking lot, and looking steadily more uneasy as the arguing went on. "Management is supposed to arrive in the next ten minutes. We _don't_ want to be doing this when they get here."

"Hey, I coulda finished setting my guitar up by now if _you_ hadn't come in ready to pick a fight over something we have nothing to do with, Don," George snapped, pointing to Don as if he'd been the one to deliver the warning rather than Jeff. Then he turned around and heading off toward his gear.

"George, mine's set up; I'll help you out. We'll get it done quick," assured Jeff, following him over.

Don threw his hands up in the air and huffed a sigh. So _he'd_ come in ready to pick a fight? Saying he'd come in with a grumpy mood would have been one thing -not that George hadn't ever come into the studio acting like someone pissed in his cereal for a reason that had nothing to do with the band -but it wouldn't have become anything if George hadn't had to make it about the band.

"You know what, George? Stop there a moment, think back, and ask yourself who started all this. Just _who?_ Didn't want the day to start this way -I don't know why I thought it wouldn't -but you made it-"

"Aw, _man,_ you guys," groaned Mick as he reappeared in the rehearsal room, giving up his original hope. "What the fuck did I get myself into this afternoon?" He went to stand directly against the wall head-on behind the barrier of his drums, and proceeded to press his forehead into it.

_"My feelings exactly!"_ Don and George both shouted across the room in unison, before shooting each other their own evil looks and swiftly turning around to go about finishing setting up for finalization and another rough rehearsal session.

The dust hadn't entirely settled when their producers and managers from Elektra arrived, and seemed well aware of there having been a fight. Mick was convinced their managers had gotten a kick out of it and decided to stir up trouble. During the album run-through for them to listen and approve the expected final product, they'd pushed an argument if the guitar and vocal volumes were balanced well enough. That was after they'd witnessed a rather rigid rehearsal session where George purposefully came in on his solo a couple of bars early to throw Don off, and where Don retaliated by holding out his ending notes extra long to drag out the ending, making it hard for George to know when to strike the resolving chord. 

Stunt or not, it successfully set off an argument. Luckily, Michael Wagener had earned the band's respect since the previous recording session, and Neil Kernon hadn't been played against him the way Tom Werman had, so they both put their feet down together.

_"Every one of you playing on the record agreed on the sound yesterday. Unless anyone on management has a definite argument to make against releasing it this way, it's staying the way it is!"_

So finally, after an afternoon of pointless bickering and questioning, the album was officially finalized for release by management, exactly as it had been when they'd arrived. What had even been the point of the meeting was unclear.

"Come on, Jeff. Let's get out of here and go to our studio where stuff actually happens and we don't have to deal with-"

Don stormed out to go sit on the front steps of the studio in the slightly-colder-than-average night air -and with as frustrated as he was, he didn't mind it as he might have otherwise. For everyone's good, including his own sanity, he decided he wasn't going back inside until George and Jeff left.

He watched as their engineers and managers who hadn't already left when they'd called it a day pulled out of the parking lot and drove away in their cars. George and Jeff's cars hadn't moved when he heard the door screech open behind him.

"If you have something bad to say, just please, leave me _alone,"_ he groaned.

"Hey, man." 

At the sound of the voice, Don took a quick glance behind himself to see Mick looking slightly taken aback.

"Why would _I_ come out here just for that?"

True enough. Maybe on their worst days, George would follow him outside to carry on an argument, but Mick would sooner run away from any conflict than chase after it. He wasn't looking for trouble -or at least not that type of trouble -whatever he _was_ looking for.

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to see that you're alright. Aside from being pissed off at George, that is -'cause that's pretty obvious to me."

Don looked up over his shoulder again. He looked unenthusiastic, but managed a snort and subtle shake of his head.

"What, are you telling me you're surprised?"

Mick paused, contemplating a pun off one of the songs they'd spent the last few months finishing up and recording videos on, but decided a reference around the theme of love might strike the wrong nerve.

"I can tell you why "Til the Livin' End" is the last song on the album," he finally joked, "because that's probably as long as it's gonna be that way, the rate we're going at."

Don managed a chuckle and seemed to lighten up.

"Yeah, I'll be the surprised one if I actually _don't_ end up waiting that long for whatever the heck _his_ problem is to end. Whether I can stand to do it or not."

Mick quietly shook his head and decided not to follow the thought any longer, before it did end up running back into the trouble they'd both tried to escape.

"I was gonna ask if we could maybe go to town and hang out with each other -just the two of us -before the touring starts and everything's crazy. Y'know, while we have some time where we don't have to worry about having to be somewhere by a certain point on a schedule." He sat down on the step next to Don. "If you're not feeling up to it, it doesn't have to be tonight though. We have a month."

"Well, I guess we're all gonna be busy tomorrow night, with the album release." Don sighed and turned to look at Mick. "Maybe not the next night, but the night after that? So we have a chance to recover?"

"Guess we are gonna get pretty fucking hammered tomorrow night. Celebrating getting this album in, and all those crazy videos done -whooo, boy! Probably not a bad idea."

Don wanted to make some remark on the cocaine that Mick would probably get into too with George and Jeff tomorrow night, but he bit his tongue and held it back.

He didn't like it that Mick did those drugs any more than he liked George and Jeff doing it. They made him just as scared for Mick's wellbeing. But even when he was high, Mick didn't actively go out of his way to isolate and challenge Don the way George did whenever he was high. Nor did Mick fear him the way Jeff did -which Don believed was a fear George had created by his reactions, but was still to an extent the result of Jeff being closer to George in the first place.

Right now, Mick was even more reliable than any love interest he had outside of the band. Even if he'd cracked the first joke about it, at least he seemed to care.

"Ten months, nearly non-stop, and that's still not all of it. It's gonna be a long tour."

"I don't mind the touring life. I'm looking forward to most of it," declared Mick. "I could live without getting sick though -guess that's bound to happen once or twice. Hopefully not too often to spoil the fun."

"I can agree there. But there are a few other things I'm not sure how much I'm looking forward to."

"Hey, look at me. I'm serious." Mick put his hand back down on Don's shoulder, more forcefully this time. "You good?"

"With what?"

"In general -anything. Good with this tour and being fine here, good with getting on after whatever happened to you, and-"

"It's happened before and it'll happen again, Mick. Don't worry about it. I'll move on and be fine. If it hadn't happened now, it probably would have while I was on tour." Don rolled his eyes and stood up from the stairs. "Of course, I'd appreciate it if George didn't blow it out of proportion, but again -is there any surprise there?"

Mick snorted. "Don, you crack me up. Come on, let's get out of here. Today's been the boring part of the release; tomorrow's the fun part, so it oughta be better. At least we'll be good and distracted by the album being done."

"Yeah, maybe the record company execs will block any chance of us talking to each other for anything to start up, because they won't shut their traps."

This time, they collectively cracked up walking back into the mudroom at the end of the entrance hall. They always found it funny at every record release they'd seen advertised on MTV how the producers acted like they'd done so much and been the mastermind -forget the bands behind it all -and with the success of _Tooth and Nail_, _Under Lock and Key_ was expected to go further and had been booked to receive the false fanfare.

If that didn't shut George up, well, he'd probably be too busy coking it up with Jeff at the party set to follow. Less desirable, but if it did the trick, Don would just be thankful for one day of peace and an excuse to stay as far away from him as possible.

"You know I'll just be waiting for the party," said Mick, "and then we'll have one of our own to enjoy later. See, it works out."

"Well, let's face it, Mick. You'll find a way to make any party work, even if it is stupid -maybe that's why I have hope for tomorrow. And why do I have a strange...?"

Don trailed off as he and Mick both looked up to the ceiling in unison to find a cluster of waxy leaves with distinctive white berries.

"...I bet I can guess who put _that_ there," he finished sarcastically, knowing he and Mick both knew full well who had without guessing. Not that said person who had probably cared whether or not Don ever ended up under it -as long as he wasn't there at the same time.

No wonder why over the last week, whenever George was arriving at the same time as Don, he split for the back door of Don wasn't already headed that way. To which Don was now glad.

Strangely enough, he didn't feel like running from it the same way with Mick there.

With a pink tint in his cheeks, Mick looked down to the ground, back up, and then to Don.

"For luck?" he asked.

"Sure could use some -as a band and on our own. What the heck, why not?" Don shrugged and took a cautious look over his shoulder to see that nobody else was around.

"We're clear." Mick stepped forward and motioned Don over. 

Don mirrored the step closer, moving further into the center under the hidden cluster of mistletoe. He already had his lips to Mick's when he felt Mick's arms wrap around him with surprising gentleness. It wasn't one of his typical, rowdy bear-hugs, and he found himself melting into it and snaking his arms around Mick to squeeze beneath his own.

That made Mick hold the kiss longer than he'd expected to. He didn't mind it though -after the heated banter that had cut through the studio most of the day, standing there under the mistletoe in the mudroom in each other's arms was giving him the most warm and peaceful feeling he'd had in awhile. Possibly in all their times at the studio.

He figured Don must have felt the same, because when they broke the kiss off, he didn't let go right away. With that, Mick didn't draw his arms back either. He squeezed tighter instead and leaned in a bit, and Don rested his cheek over his shoulder.

Mick didn't know how long they stood like that, but he didn't think it could have been more than a couple of seconds when he heard a noise outside. He loosened his hold and looked up to the window to see one of the production team member's cars pulling back into the lot outside the door. _Must've left something behind._

"Incoming car," he warned.

"Oh, _sure_ there is." Don mocked surprise as he lifted off Mick's shoulder and started to back away, but not before he felt Mick deliver an affectionate squeeze to his own shoulders.

Not a second too late either, as they saw one of their engineers leap out of the car and come running through the parking lot in rapid approach of the door.

Mick grabbed his keys from the shelf by the door, ready to make a fast escape, lest they be caught under the mistletoe and lose their secret moment of happiness all to themselves.

"We'll see each other tomorrow, and again in two days?"

Feeling a little less downcast, Don managed a tired smile.

"We'll start with that. And maybe see about a few more times before we hit the road."

The next day, Don arrived early to the studio, ahead of all the big-to-do, in hopes that arriving earlier than everyone else would prevent a similar start. Just as he was ready to head inside, a motorcycle engine blared in the distance, and Mick came rolling up a second later.

Maybe George had set that mistletoe cluster up for himself and Jeff only, but that didn't stop Don and Mick from sneaking another quick kiss under it on their way inside. They were alone, and like with the tree, they were going to enjoy it because they had it.

And if there was a little more love in the festive studio atmosphere afterward, there was nothing to argue against that.


End file.
